little love affairs
by ambivia
Summary: Mira walks in on Laxus in the shower, and he's not all that bothered by it. —miraxus, college au.


**notes—** anon on tumblr requested _walked in on you in the shower college!au—miraxus_. you know, this was meant to be 500 words? whoops.

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 **little love affairs**

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Honestly, Mira must have been a demon in a past life. Some overarching karmic debt _has_ to have at least contributed a _little_ to her deserving friends like this. It's the only reasoning that makes sense when she wonders, yet again, why she's in what's supposed to be her sister's boyfriend's bedroom searching for a goddamn _phone charm_ of all things.

"Oh, you'll just be in and out, they said," she mutters under her breath, sliding shut yet another fruitlessly searched drawer and glancing around for a new victim. "It'll only take a second, it's right on the desk, _they said_. Like hell it'll only take a _second—"_

Like it's not enough that she has to put up with Bixlow's ridiculous habit of leaving underwear in the entrance hall every Friday night. Like it's not enough that she's woken up more times than she's willing to remember to sounds she _never_ wants to hear Lisanna make again. Like it's not enough to be subjected in all her singledom to the lovey-dovey lifestyle of what has the be the most PDA-friendly couple on the _entire fucking university_ _CAMPUS_ —

No. Apparently, it's _not_. Because Lisanna has mastered the art of pouting, and Mira has a heart that, I'm sorry, might as well be made out of _marshmallow fluff_ for all the good it's doing her— the consequences of which include sneaking into an empty residence to look for some stupid present that her dumbass sister left in her dumbass boyfriend's dumbass apartment.

"I love her, really, I do—" She scowls at the poster of some melodramatic rock band called _Thunderclap_ on the far wall, and puts her hands on her hips. "But I do _not_ deserve this. I'm a good person. I do nice things. But _no~_ , she gets the adoring boyfriend, and _I_ get frat boy bedrooms that stink of cheap cologne."

Mira's about to make a dive for under the bed to dig amongst the dust bunnies when she hears the unmistakable creak of a shower faucet turning and the gentle tapping of water against glass.

She stares at the closed door to the en-suite bathroom for two long, still seconds. And here she thought hearts jumping into throats was just writers being dramatic, but no, she definitely almost died right there. Just on the spot, passed beyond the veil.

When she calms down enough to _breathe_ again, now incredibly over-aware of how loud her complaining must have been to anyone in the vicinity, Mira realises how silly she's being. Of course she's the only one here — she _left_ Bixlow back at her apartment specifically so she could get into his without being caught. And he said himself that his roommates were out. Elfman's taken Evergreen back to Magnolia to visit their parents, Freed slept over at his boyfriend's dorm, and the arrogant Pikachu — she wrinkles her nose in irritation — has a lecture at nine every morning.

And the only reason she knows _that_ is because he gets coffee at Fairy Café at the exact moment she passes the store window on her morning jog, and ends up on the receiving end of the world's most appreciative leer accompanied by a shameless smirk from the _universe's_ biggest asshole. Always. Without fail. If he's in a good mood, she also gets the occasional wink — much to her chagrin, obviously. _Obviously_. Like, _sure_ , even _she_ can see how attractive he is with those sharp blue eyes and petrifying confidence, but she's allowed to do that and still acknowledge him as the smug, cocky, self-important playboy he probably is.

But see, that's why she knows— _knows for a fact_ — that there can't be anyone in Bixlow's bathroom. Which only leaves one answer: he didn't turn his shower off properly. And Mira has had to lend him her own bathroom enough times to know that that isn't exactly outside his usual careless behaviour.

So, logically, the only thing she can do is go and turn it off, right? It's the friendly thing to do. It's the _neighbourly_ thing to do. It's the sisterly thing to do, okay. And if there's one thing Mira does perfectly, it's the big sister trope. She was pretty much made for it.

That's why she straightens her back, flips her hair over her shoulders, marches right over to the door without much fuss, and swings it wide open. "Honestly, the boy would forget his own head if it wasn't screwed—"

"THE _FUCK_?"

"Ah?" She blinks twice. Stutters a bit in shock. Finally registers who exactly she just walked in on taking a shower, and ends up blanching. "Y-You— What are— I was— _You!_ "

When Laxus slides the glass door open fast as lightening, leaps out— _leaps, in all it's gravity-defying glory_ — and promptly slips on the wet floor, falling smack on his ass — his actual ass, mind you, his _very naked actual ass_ — a quiet voice in the back of Mira's head wonders if she was just set up on the worst blind date imaginable. Except not blind. Very not blind at all.

See, 'cause while part of her's thinking that, the _rest_ of her is busy _staring_. From the beads of water snaking their way down his toned abdominals, down to the light dusting of hair, down to the pronounced 'v' of his hipbones, up to the dark tattoo curled around his chest to his wide shoulders, his toned biceps— _God,_ she can't tear her eyes from him. Flushed from the heat, his tan skin glows; he's all coiled muscle and sharp edges, some rough nightmare in a daydream's body. Blonde hair — usually sticking in all directions like he's spent the better part of his day messing it up — droops down past his ears in a way she's hard-pressed not to call adorable. The silly little tuft he usually thinks looks _so cool_ flops across his forehead so that he has to squint his eyes to look at her. And his _eyes_ , oh boy, the way he's _glaring_ at her with such fierce _intensity_ —

Shit. Making eye contact with him, Mira suddenly returns to her senses, and realises she's been checking him out while he lies ambushed on his bathroom floor.

"I-I didn't know you were—" She grabs blindly at the railing to her left, shielding her eyes as she tosses him a towel. "I'm so sorry! I thought— Lis told me, she said Bixlow's room was— Oh my God, I am so _sorry_."

When he does finally get to his feet, all the while not taking his eyes off her—she can _feel_ his eyes on her and it just makes the stupid blush on her cheeks all the worse—he doesn't even wrap the damn thing around his waist. He just _holds_ it there, casually staring her down in the nude.

Mira meets his eyes meekly, stubbornly ignoring anything except his face. "This was meant to be Bixlow's bathroom. A-And you're meant to be in class."

All he does is widen his eyes and breathe, " _You._ Window girl. I _knew_ you were interested!"

Settling a hand on his waist, Laxus tilts his head in a way she almost wants to call friendly. Oh, he wants to _talk?_

His lips twitch into a smirk in response to her frown. "You like to take things fast, huh? I mean, I'm all for skipping the date and getting to the good part, but give a guy some warning."

She's scoffing before she can help herself, still fighting to keep her gaze firmly locked with his. The temptation to look, just for a _second_ , is killer, but his attitude is enough to deter the inappropriate thoughts— _she wishes._ "As if. In your dreams, Laxus."

The grin she gets in response has her feeling like she's walked into a trap. Her stomach sinks when he cocks an eyebrow. "Okay," he says simply.

And drops the towel.

.

.

After she's screamed and fled the scene of the crime, running straight out his bedroom and making for the apartment door, his loud laughter still echoes in her ears. Her whole body feels like it's burning.

She's yanking the door open with violent ferocity when, still cracking up, he calls out behind her. "I'm buyin' you coffee tomorrow, Mira!"

There's only one reason he would know her name — so _he_ was interested too, _hmmm~_? Well, at least that explains Bixlow and Lisanna collaborative set-up.

Mira fails to bite down her smile as the door swings shut behind her.

.

.

As it turns out, 'in your dreams' was a very accurate description of her sleep that night. Let's just say she'd _need_ that coffee.

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 **notes2—** i'm _ambivia_ on tumblr if you'd like to send me a prompt/request!


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